


Old Man Rostasin

by Dolt



Category: poem - Fandom
Genre: Gen, Strange things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-18
Updated: 2016-11-18
Packaged: 2018-08-31 19:15:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8590369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dolt/pseuds/Dolt
Summary: A short little tid bit about a WWII vet losing his mind.





	

The night is cold and dreary, travel through the night would be weary. Old Man Rostasin was a wandering, trying to get away from the mind wandering. Trying to forget the faces, wandering through the aces.

A shriek in the night long since past, running at long last. Memories flood the mind of a night long past, everything coming on to fast. A voice in the wind, marks the end.

In the distance a ring, just a flaming ring. In the center there they lie, memories long since past waiting to die. Gunfire echoes as the land changes, everything changing as it ranges.

Voices long since ceased, echoing from a war long since ceased. Old Man Rostasin wandering, couldn't stop his mind wandering. Cursed to relive, the troubles of those alive.

Mistakes were made long ago, followed through time by guilt. Memories of comrades fallen, still callin'. The mind wandering, cant be stopped by Old Man Rostasin wandering.

The time has come, they come. Fallen comrades seeking revenge, for a sin needed to avenge. War claimed their lives, left alone were their wives.

From his memories he ran, like a celebrity from a deranged fan. Haunted all his years, by things of tears. Never forgiving, always remembering.

The faces clear, like things of fear. Reminded of failures, like jailors. Haunted by his mistakes, waiting for the end.

Gunfire surrounds, as life sounds. reliving the final moments, just like years ago. The fallen comrades are crazy, coming back for the lazy.

If he would have looked, his comrades would be alive. Thinking like a hive, the memories thrive. Finally catching Old Man Rostasin, for an old sin.

Running through the graves, remembering the braves. Watching the deaths, reliving the failures. Remembering all the Beths, thinking of all the tears.

Throughout the years, rivers of tears. All his comrades are gone, now his time has come. Running through the graveyard, seeing only a training yard.

Onlookers watching Old Man Rostasin, committing one final sin. Defiling the graves, remembering the braves. Seeing a training yard, really in a graveyard.

The night is cold and dreary, travel through the night would be weary. Old Man Rostasin was a wandering, trying to get away from the mind a wandering. Trying to forget the faces, wandering through the aces.


End file.
